


TORCHWOOD: Split Decision

by HippyChick1964



Category: Ianto Jones - Fandom, Jack Harkness - Fandom, Janto - Fandom, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippyChick1964/pseuds/HippyChick1964
Summary: Will they or won't they?  What does happy-ever-after really mean when you're talking about the pairing of shy, smart Welsh boy and an immortal, intergalactic gigolo.  If relationships are about compromise, this should work like a textbook!
Relationships: Jack and Ianto, jack harkness and ianto jones - Relationship
Kudos: 7





	1. Know What You're Worth

_You don't know your worth_

_All the things I know that you deserve_

_Say it's not real if it doesn't hurt_

_Find someone you know will put you first_

_Find someone who loves you at your worst_

\- Know What Your Worth - Songwriters: Guy Lawrence / James Napier / Khalid Robinson as sung by Khalid featuring Disclosure

  


It all started rather innocently. Jack found Ianto in the storeroom. Ianto was organizing and filing last year’s reports. He was irritated by how his mp3’s natty speakers were ruining Joshua Bell’s delicate tones. Ianto started to work faster but quickly realized that he still had two more piles of papers to go. He looked at his watch, shrugged then reached over to turn off the mangled music.

“You’re hiding from me.” Jacks voice filled the audio void and offered a better sound, much more dazzling than a muddled Mozart violin concerto. “I’ve been texting you for an hour.” Jack was leaning against the open door like he was daring the young man to try and escape.

Ianto grabbed his mobile from atop of a nearby filing cabinet.

He looked at it and there were 6 missed text messages, one of which was from his sister asking if he could babysit next Saturday. “Oh, . . . um, sorry, Sir. I was listening to some music and turned the mobile’s call notification down low.” Ianto tried to return to the task at hand but Jack’s silence unnerved him. “Is there something I can get for you, Sir?”

“Ianto Jones, Ianto Jones why are you teasing me?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I know I’m a terribly attractive man, likely the best-looking one you’ve ever known.”

Ianto said under his breath, _Self-esteem is intact, check_. With a big inhale, he forced himself look the boss in the eye. “How can I assist you, Sir?” He immediately regretted his words. Jack pushed off the door and walked in a determined gait toward Ianto who realized he had a matter of seconds before his boss was going to be upon him. What does one do when one’s boss is about to sexually harass you when you secretly want him to do so? 

“C’mon now, Ianto!” Jack said as he stalked his prey, so close now Ianto could smell the coffee on his breath. It was from this morning. “Ianto Jones, you are also avoiding me.”

“No, no sir. I’m not ignoring you.”

“I didn’t say ignore but now that you mention it, I suppose it is the same thing . . .” Jack steadied himself with his left hand on the wall behind Ianto, blocking him in with help from the nearby filing cabinet. Jack looked down on the young man’s mouth, moist with the bottom lip poking forward invitingly. “Tell me Ianto Jones, how many boys did you kiss in the library stacks.?”

Ianto’s eyes immediately dropped to his shoelaces. He’d been a virgin when he met Lisa. But since working in the field at Torchwood 3, his spine was stiffer and bullying, even from Owen, at most only left a mosquito’s bite. Shame no longer rattled him. “None and you know that. Remember? Remember our date? You were busy getting me drunk so I would tell you more about myself. Is that what you’re here for? To teach me another lesson in male dalliances. Well, go ahead then, kiss me. It’s not like I can stop you, cramped against this filing cabinet, eh?”

Jack cocked his head, unused to lad’s assertiveness. He stepped back slightly but maintained his fingers on the wall. “Did I misunderstand something? I thought we had a moment. Well, several, if you ask me. I mean there was that time a few weeks ago when you . . ..”

“Stop! That’s enough!”

But Jack continued, “And there was that time in the conference room, ah but you wouldn’t remember that now would you?”

“Enough!” Ianto shouted which made Jack take a full step back. “Alright then. Let’s just say lately my curiosity has gotten the better of me, okay?” He again boyishly stared at his shoes. “Yes, you are quite charming and are likely deemed sexy by many people . . ..”

“Creatures, please! This intergalactic lover has a reputation to live up to!”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Jack straightened in response to Ianto’s snark.

“Well, I suppose . . . well, I won’t bother you again then.” He raised his hands like a caught thief and walked backwards as if requesting Her Majesty’s leave. “As I said, I thought we had a moment,” he said, a drop of disappointment falling to the floor.

Jack was about to turn around and leave, when Ianto said, “You didn’t get anything wrong.” Jack stopped dead, hands still up in the air. “I am . . . curious.”

Jack cocked his head again, taking the measure of the man. “Not sure who’s zoomin’ who here.”

“Huh?”

Jack smiled, realizing Ianto was too young to appreciate the musical reference, “One of Aretha Franklin’s lesser-known songs but I think was quite profound in its own way.” Jack suddenly, as the possibility of kissing this man became more real, noticed the rise in his body temperature – a telltale sign from his past. He shouldn’t do this but before his internal debate could truly get underway, he felt Ianto’s lips against his. The initial pressure was tentative, uncertain but as soon as Jack exerted the smallest amount of encouraging pressure, it was as if a flood gate opened – for them both. Feeling his tongue against his made Ianto moan like after that first bite of your nan’s Christmas ham. Jack enjoyed sounds like that from his lovers. For all his boisterousness, few knew that side of him that was generous and giving. Jack was a very attenuative, mindful lover. But as soon as this started feeling good for him, Jack pulled back. He didn’t want to hurt this young man. Jack knew Ianto was less experienced, even for someone his age. Jack knew he was sensitive, kind, and loyal – not good fuck-buddy material. This was confirmed when, as Jack pulled away from the kiss, he caught Ianto’s disappointment at the loss. Jack smiled at him in that way your extended relatives do when you say something inappropriate at the Easter dinner table.

Ianto decided he’d avoid the condescension. He took a wider step back as well, but he was now pinned against the wall. He still had his dignity though. “Right, well, . . .. Excellent research, eh? Thank you! I guess I can check that off the bucket list.” He grabbed up some papers up top of the cabinet and acted like he was waiting for Jack to move like they were on an elevator and it was Ianto’s floor. “I’ll just get these into those cabinets on the lower level.”

Ianto stood there stiffly waiting for Jack to move.

Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist while stepping to the side. As Ianto darted past, Jack admired the young man’s ass and said in a matching tone, “So glad to have been of assistance! Come back soon for the whole workshop and be sure to sign up for extra credit.”

Lucky for Ianto, there was a single stall bathroom just down the hall. _It’s going to take some time to get this hard-on under control_ , he thought. Getting his breathing under control was a whole other story. Besides, he wanted to enjoy the fantasies about what could happened next.

***********************

This sort of cat and mouse game lasted for several weeks. One would catch the other unawares in some out-of-room in the Hub, and there were more than 2 dozen of them on the lower levels. The others didn’t notice it, or at least the only one who would care, Gwen, said nothing. These escapades rarely lasted longer than a handful of minutes and only went to second base. Initially, both found them exciting and a bit naughty but something bigger was stirring in Ianto. What was nice was how the tete-te-tete built Ianto’s confidence. It was reawakening longings he hadn’t had since Lisa. But, Ianto never imagined kissing a man could be this erotic in and of itself. The more Ianto kissed Jack, the more passionate those kisses became and the closer it got to second, third, . . . home plate . . . the more Ianto realized that he wanted more that this immortal could or would provide.

“Yo, Ianto?” hollered Owen from the hallway. “You’ve been down there forever and I need that report. Geeze!”

Ianto pushed Jack off. “Ah, oh yes. I was just coming up.” Ianto shoved Jack farther back so Ianto could hurry around him. 

Jack just chuckled. But he stood there, running his fingers across his lips still tingling from kissing. Jack shook his head as if he was trying to chastise a naughty child. He had to rationalize himself away from that boy. He made a vow to himself - _I can’t afford to get caught up! Falling in love is just too painful!_

From that moment, they avoided one another. But that something was happening between then was indisputable. It started with snarky comments about Ianto’s coffee standards “slacking lately.” Then Jack yelled at him about “doing a half-assed job” entering some new species into the system (although the fault was Jack’s as he had not given Ianto all the information in the first place). Throughout the afternoon, Jack barked orders at Ianto and kept him running all around the Hub. At 6 pm three weeks later, Ianto was sick of Jack, Torchwood, and life.”

“What is your bloody problem?” ask Gwen when she realized Ianto had left without saying anything to anyone. “Why are you picking on Ianto? What did he do to you?”

“The man’s incompetent. I never should have hired him in the first place. That Lisa thing and all is certainly enough of a reason.”

“Oh, bullocks!” Gwen dismissed. “That was ages ago and we’ve all forgiven him, why can’t you?”

“Argh! Whatever!”

Gwen sensed there was something more, but Rhys was waiting for her and she’d promised to be home for Friday night fish and chips. “Right, we’ll fire him after my wedding, please!” She shook her head and walked out of Jack’s office. Afterwards, Jack’s guilt slumped his shoulders and while he single-gulped three straight shots of hyper-vodka. When he started to pour the fourth shot, Jack thought for a moment, put down the canister and instead grabbed the keys to the SUV. He pulled out his roller desk to find Ianto’s home address. As he copied the information, Jack wondered why he’d been to the other team members homes, even had dinner at Rhys and Gwen’s. By the time he arrived at Ianto’s door, the rain was coming down steady. Jack had convinced himself that it was better to settle things now, whatever that meant. The resolve he had when he rang the bell next to the neatly typed name tag eluded him once Ianto answered the call.

“Yes? Downton Curry? Wow, you guys are fast!” Ianto said through the intercom phone. He came downstairs and opened the door eagerly, but his face dropped like a disappointed 8-year old at a birthday party. “Jack what are you doing here?”

Jack looked like a soaked kitten standing at the top of the steps outside of Ianto’s flat. “Ah, I thought I should apologize. I was a real ass today.” He smiled sheepishly and noted that Ianto hadn’t asked him in. Sorry, I must be interrupting.” 

“As a matter of fact, you are interrupting.”

Ianto stood at the entryway like he was leading a band of Welsh longbowmen in the Battle of Agincourt. He sighed, realizing that simply taking the apology would get Jack off his landing. “Right, listen. I forgive you and will see you on Monday or sooner should there be some alien invasion. But now,” he let out a strong exhale, “I would like my day off to be in . . . to be in private.”

“Ah, Ianto . . . I thought we would . . . could get something to eat or something.”

“Thank you but no. I have a night planned.”

“Alone?” asked an incredulous Jack Harkness.

“Yes,” Ianto declared. Surprisingly, it didn’t take much courage for him to finish his thoughts. “Jack, we’ve had a good time, haven’t we? But we both know it was just a laugh, eh? I mean, we don’t have any future or anything? We aren’t moving in the same direction, right?”

“Ah, yeah . . . I mean no, well, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Ianto sighed and summoned the words to say, “I’m sorry Jack but . . . we want different things. Someday, hopefully, sooner rather than later, I want what Gwen and Rhys have. I want to be married, a couple of kids, maybe a house. Sneaking around the Hub playing spin the bottle is not exactly going to lead me to a church, now is it?”

“Ianto listen, I wasn’t trying to . . ..”

“No, Jack you have to understand me! Yeah, you’re hot and all but that’s not enough. You just want to play around and that’s fine for someone immortal like you. But, us mortals need something a bit more certain than stolen kisses in the library.”

Jack started to toss a quip back at him but thought better of it. “If that’s what you want . . . I guess I’ll see you Monday morning.”

Ianto unceremoniously closed his door and turned off his hallway light. He grabbed his mobile to find out what was taking his curry so long.


	2. Feeling as Good as Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto moves on but will Gwen allow it?

Chapter Two

  


_Come now, come dry your eyes_

_You know you a star, you can touch the sky_

_I know that it's hard but you have to try_

_If you need advice, let me simplify_

_If he don't love you anymore_

_Just walk your fine ass out the door_

_I do my hair toss, check my nails_

_Baby, how you feelin'? (Feelin' good as hell)_

  * (Feeling as) Good as Hell as sung by Lizzo, Songwriters: Eric Frederic / Melissa Jefferson



  


The next several weeks were vastly different for the two men. Ianto, as he confided it to Gwen that Monday after she asked if he was okay, concluded it as the “breakup of the relationship that wasn’t”. He also told her he was relieved. “That man will flirt with a starfish. How am I, a simple human supposed to compete with that?” Gwen smiled and nodded. She knew what he was feeling as she had felt it too. Thus was why when Rhys asked smartly chose him instead of Jack. She liked the excitement of Jack but when she thought on while he was gone, _I have alien invasions for that_. Still, when Jack returned there was a ting of regret, feared she had taken the easy way out. But then she had noticed Ianto’s joy when Jack returned and found her feelings drifted away quietly like the memory of a favorite childhood toy. And besides, despite a large portion of sincerity in Ianto’s protestations, she didn’t believe Ianto was done with it. But she followed his lead with, “You’re a nice man with a good heart. I’m sure you’ll find someone who deserves you.”

Two hours later, Gwen was in Jack’s office ostensibly to review some strange readings off the Scottish coast. She made the mistake of saying, “I’ll have Ianto help me with this research.”

“Whatever,” Jack grumbled.

Gwen leapt on the opening. “Yeah, right. You two have some kind of row? You were kinda hard on him last week.” Jack slammed his pen on his desk. Gwen watched it bounce across the room. “Sore spot, eh?”

“He doesn’t respect my authority! I can’t work with him.”

“I’ve never seen you so worked up before, especially about a relationship.” Gwen left that one hang in the air a moment before adding, “He’s nice. Maybe it’s time for you to . . ..”

“Gwen, I love you but on this, mind you own business,” Jack growled.

She backed out of his office slowly, hands in the air, as she wondered who was going to cave first.

Those sweet, sometimes passionate kisses did improve his self-confidence. He found himself seeking opportunities to meet people – Ianto started going to his local and joined the gym around the corner from his flat - and going places where he would be more likely to find a suitable mate – Ianto joined a book club and, when late evening alien-hunting didn’t interfere, did the Thursday night “Painting with Winos” at the main library. He felt like he finally had a life. He was happy for the first time in a long time. Now he also noticed the blokes who fancied him, and he was flattered. But that served as an ego boost more than encouragement. He loved dark-skinned, shapely black girls and they seemed more open to him than in the past. And Ianto was particularly fond of Yvonne, a curvy girl with big eyes and smooth skin who worked nights at his local. She was a graphic arts student at Cardiff University. She was thoughtful, smart, and very into him. 

Ianto talked to Gwen each morning about Yvonne, looking for advice and support. “I’m really ready to ask her out.”

“Sounds like she is keen. I’m so excited for you.”

Ianto asked sheepishly, “Would you mind . . . mind coming and giving her a look over. I still don’t trust myself. I really could use a woman’s opinion.”

“You want me to come to the bar with you? Aren’t you worried she’ll get the wrong idea?”

“Oh no! I told her all about you, Gwen Cooper, a fellow computer analyst.”

“Cracky! I’ll have to get some tips from Tosh. C’mon, day and time?”

“Tomorrow, right after work okay?”

“Perfect,” replied Gwen before she hugged him.

Ianto went back to his computer station to happily complete some weekly data entry. Gwen, as she turned to sit at her station, caught a glimpse of Jack standing at his office window. He was unsteady, swaying a bit much. She’d noted his increased drinking – _how do you convince an immortal that alcohol consumption is bad for you?_ she asked herself. Gwen was worried about Jack – even if Ianto was faking it, he seemed happy with it. She thought to go to Jack and tell him that Ianto had moved on and so should he but dropped it for fear that such would be rubbing salt into an open wound. She decided to invite Jack to her home for dinner where Rhys and she could corner him and get him to talk.

The next evening, an excited Ianto Jones brought his best girl pal to his local to meet Yvonne. She wasn’t working tonight and had gotten there earlier so she could snatch a good booth in the back. Thursday was busy as it was quiz night. Her promptness meant they could hear each other as the game players typically huddled by tellies near the front windows. Yvonne didn’t want to blow this. There was too much at stake.

She didn’t have to wait long before Gwen and Ianto arrived. Yvonne impressed Gwen. She found the younger woman to be very bright, ambitious, and highly attentive to Ianto. By the beginning of the second beer, the conversation drifted to friends they shared, and Gwen found her mind wandering. She looked around the room. The bar’s booths were filled with couples who looked like this was their first or third date. The quiz players, sitting tall tables near the tellies, were an older crowd – likely parents with siblings who are old enough to watch one another for a few hours or pensioners look for a cheap night out. At the bar were the genuine locals who would stumble home after they’ve consumed their last six penance. Then, something caught her eye, something that seemed out of place. Somebody in a black hoody underneath a familiar trench coat was hunched over an untouched pint at the end of the bar. “Good g-d!” she whispered just a little too loud.

“Something wrong?” Yvonne asked.

“No, no,” Gwen stuttered, “I just saw someone I know. Will you two excuse me just a minute? I want to say high.” Ianto and Yvonne both nodded and returned to their conversation. They didn’t see who Gwen approached.

She pushed her way past night’s three types of visitors and squeezed up against Jack Harkness. “I mean really Jack! What are you playing at?”

“How did you know it was me?” Jack asked sheepishly.

Gwen pointed at his glass. “You’re at a local and not drinking your beer? Rhys would have picked that up. And the people who visit these kinds of bars don’t wear hoodies. It was either you or an unbelievably bad spy. Why are you following Ianto?”

“I’m suspicious of that girl. I think she’s an alien.”

“C’mon Jack, this is ridiculous! Get over it. Leave that man alone and let him find a life.”

“No Gwen! This isn’t about my jealousy, although I am jealous but that’s got nothing to do with it.” He pulled out a small tablet and handed it to her. “Alright, I’ll admit this started from my jealousy but last week I noted a small opening in a rift near here. Something about her, I don’t know, didn’t make sense so I got a DNA sample.”

“A DNA sample? Get out! How did you do that?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Darlin’, he’s not the only one who can rope a college girl!”

It was Gwen’s turn to roll her eyes. She then turned her attention back to the information on the tablet. “What is this saying?”

Jack tapped on two sections and came to what would pass for an intergalactic rap sheet with, instead of aliases, pictures of their alternative faces and bodies, most of which looked like larva. “She’s a Carthapian spy. They’ve been trying to worm their way into this planet for four centuries. It seems the nitrogen in the Earth’s soil is better than what is deteriorating on their home planet. She’s probably here to kill me or disable Torchwood.”

Gwen handed him back the tablet then let out a heavy sigh. “This is bad, really, really bad. We’ve gotta figure a way tell him. Oh, g-d! This is Lisa all over again.”

A blind, happy Ianto walked up to Gwen holding the hand of his shapeshifter spy girlfriend. “Hey, we were going to take off, if that’s okay. Long night ahead . . . well, I hope it will, . . . anyway it seems you are having a good time with your friend.” Ianto turned to the figure at the bar and extended his hand. Hello, my name is . . ..” Ianto was stunned. Of all the people he’d thought he’d see Jack was at the bottom of the list. Even more surprising was the flutter in his stomach. “Jack, what are you doing here?”

Jack sheepishly pointed at the flat beer in his glass. “Having a pint?” Ianto gave him a dirty look. To anticipate homicide, Jack added, “I came to show you something important.” Jack took the tablet from Gwen and handed it to Ianto.

Yvonne came up behind him and peeped around to say, “Hello? More friends of yours?”

Ianto groaned. “This is my boss, . . ..”

“Ah, you’re the famous Jack Harkness! Ianto has talked a lot about you.”

“He has, has he?” Jack said with his killer smile.

Through his irritation, he finally comprehended the information just given to him. “How do you know my boss’s name? I never told you.” At this point, he couldn’t figure on who he was more upset with or what he was more upset about, another alien girlfriend or Jack being the one to point it out.

Yvonne stuttered slightly. “Yes, you just called his name, just now.”

Ianto put the tablet on the bar counter. He reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out his Glock and held it at his side but making sure Yvonne saw it. “We can do this loud and with a lot of attention or we can take this outside. Up to you. Either way, you’re getting the fuck off my planet!” Gwen had never seen such a homicidal look on Ianto’s face and feared having to explain to the local constabulary how he killed the alien with his bare hands for she was certain the gun was only for show.

Yvonne had seen Ianto’s gun and noted Jack’s tucked into the sweatshirt. She turned to Gwen who said, “Oh yes sweetheart, I’m strapping too, and I keep extras just in case you don’t get dead enough. Ah, Ianto, do you remember those, the Bannikitak I think they were called?”

“Ah yes, a smelly bunch.”

“Yep,” added Jack, “comes from all the dying they do. They’re only one of a handful of creatures in the universe who have resurrection skills. But they aren’t like me or the Gallifreyans. When the Bannikitak deaths can go on for days, long enough for serious rigour mortis to set in and they don’t get what they lose back. You must be young ‘cause most look-like zombies by the time they turn 40.”

The alien decided being shot would be worse than going to Torchwood jail. Gwen walked her outside and put Yvonne in cuffs while Ianto called Owen to bring the SUV around. Tosh and Owen arrived fairly quickly. Once they secured Yvonne, Gwen turned and whispered to Ianto. “Get back in there. You two need to settle this, now. I don’t want any blow ups at my wedding, do you understand me?”

“What’s there to talk about? He’s the one being creepy!”

“Ianto, please.” Gwen looked to see if Owen was paying attention. Then she leaned closer to Ianto’s ears. “Jack has missed you. I don’t know what you did to him but the man’s miserable. Go give him a chance. Just listen to what he’s got to say.”

If anyone but Gwen had offered such advice, Ianto would have ignored it. But on several occasions, he’d seen Gwen’s interpretations were downright psychic. And if Ianto was completely honest with himself, he’d had several hot dreams about his boss over the last few nights. “I’ll talk to him but I’m not promising anything.”

She kissed his cheek. “I don’t think you’re going to regret it.”

“Promises, promises.”


	3. You're All That's Left to Hold On To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is conflicted (as usual) and Ianto is insistent (as usual). Who do you think will win?

Chapter Three

_The glass is cut_

_The bottle run dry_

_Our love runs cold_

_In the caverns of the night_

_We're wounded by fear_

_Injured in doubt_

_I can lose myself_

_You I can't live without_

_Yeah you keep me holding on_

_In Red Hill town_

_See the lights go down on_

_I'm hanging on_

_You're all that's left to hold on to_

_I'm still waiting_

\- Red Hill Mining Town as sung by U2, Songwriters: Adam Clayton / Dave Evans / Larry Mullen / Paul Hewson

“Okay, let’s hear your explanation!” Ianto said once he arrived back by Jack’s side.

“What do you want to hear?”

“The truth, the whole truth would be nice.”

Ianto motioned the bartender for a pint.

“And give him a double vodka, neat.”

“The whole truth is complicated.”

 _I’m sure it is_ , Ianto thought. _And much of it must be horrid. But I can’t let him out of this! Soon, the bartender arrived with the drinks_. As Ianto paid, he stated, “I’ve got all night - now.” He raised his glass.

Jack did the same then downed the shot. “What do you want to know? Ianto, I’ve had a lot of relationships over the years . . ..

“How do you feel about me?”

“As I said, things are complicated.”

“My question isn’t complicated, but I’ll make it simple for you. Are you falling in love with me? Because before you treated me shitty and blew me off, I found myself feeling hopeful about where this could go. So, I ask you again. Do you love me?”

“Yes.” Jack’s body went stiff as if pushing the word out was painful. “But Ianto, loving me comes with . . . it comes with side effects that we really should talk about . . ..”

“Shut up!” Ianto put his fingers across Jack’s lips. “Stop talking. It just gets you into trouble.” Ianto pressed against Jack’s lips, forcing them apart. Jack took advantage, just as Ianto knew he would, and sucked the fingertips in his mouth. Jack’s lips were soft and pliable which reminded Ianto of how they felt against Ianto’s neck. He closed his eyes for just a moment to enjoy the rumblings and tiny electric shocks to sensitive nerve endings. This stirred his dick and triggered pieces of last night’s dream. The inexperienced man tried to imagine the feeling of those lips around his head of his cock, the tongue lapping the underside. Ianto had seen some gay porn and hoped at least some of it was true.

Jack watched the young man’s tactile, instinctive reactions. With Ianto’s fingertips in his mouth, Jack could mark the man’s rising heart rate which let Jack know when to catch him before he fell over like a shaking bowl of pre-cum. Jack was flattered, touched by the innocence and honesty of it all. Gwen was right about Ianto. He was definitive husband material and Jack was, he hated to admit, quite lonely. To the people around them, it looked like a bloke keeping his drunk best bud from eating sawdust. “I didn’t know you were the kind to swoon!”

Once he regained his composure, Ianto raised his nose and declared, “I bet there is a lot about me you don’t know. I’m not just a half-burnt HR file from Torchwood One.”

Jack leaned back against the bar, manspreading and chest posturing like a prostitute in a window. “Ah, but is it as interesting and as varied as mine?”

Ianto frowned. “I didn’t know it was a contest.” He started to wave the bartender over to order something stronger.

Jack stopped him by grabbing his hand and lowering it. Ianto found himself wondering again but in his imagination that hand was on something much farther down. Ianto soon realized that loving this man meant accepting forever feeling conflicted – between desperately wanting Jack to finding his dismissive arrogance equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. And until his death, Ianto would wonder why he so readily accepted this challenge as the price you paid for loving an immortal.

Jack’s smooth voice jarred Ianto back to the present.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“My flat is around the corner.”

“I know.”

******************

They walked to Ianto’s place in silence, their steps were slow and steady as if a waiver one way or another would squash everything. Both were plagued with doubt about whether this was the best move for either of them. The men said nothing so that the sound of each step was a predictable rhythm, almost a march. They both knew that once they crossed this line, there was no going back for either of them. Still, once they arrived at the entryway, they were holding hands.

Unlike his previous visit, Jack noted the stunning layout and furnishings inside Ianto’s flat. One perk of working for Torchwood was the salary which allowed the employees to engage in all variety of hobbies and adventures. For Tosh and Owen, this translated into fancy toys – next-generation microscopes, computerized holographics, and terabits of data moving at the speed of light. For Gwen, it went to Rhys’s business and a family home (and, still on occasion, to pay for escorts to keep her sex addiction in check, particularly now that Tosh was pursuing). Jack had long ago secured non-liquid assets necessary no matter the economic climate. But, Ianto put his salary toward creating a modern Englishman’s country estate inside a one-bedroom apartment. Looking around at the spacious room with its floor to ceiling French windows, shiny hardwood flooring likely professionally cleaned and buffed regularly, and semi-open architecture with only the bathroom and bedroom with a door. “Why didn’t you just rent a house in the country?”

“I didn’t want the long commute.” Ianto pointed to Jack’s feet. “Shoes off. There are guest slippers next to the shoe rack if you need them.” He changed his shoes, putting on a pair of fuzzy slippers with the Welsh flag on them. Jack took a plain plaid pair. “I have a wide selection of alcohol and I think I still have an IPA in the fridge. Or I could put on a cup of tea if you’d like.”

“I’ll have whatever you are,” Jack replied as Ianto took his coat and hung it on a hanger then put it in the closet. For a moment, Jack was concerned that his coat would be overwhelmed being in a closet space as neat as that one was. It was symbolic of the entire house. Everything was placed precisely, and everything had a place. The furnishing was mahogany conservative, familiar to any 18th-century earl or duke. Even the open kitchen area across from the bedroom looked like it was installed yesterday from an IKEA exhibit. “What smells so good? I don’t think I’ve eaten since yesterday.”

Ianto grabbed a remote from a side table and turned on his audio system, who’s speakers were strategically and subtly placed throughout the flat so that music was heard precisely the same no matter where you were in the house. He put on Chopin’s Nocturne in E minor he was likely listening to that morning. Then he thought better of it. “A bit dull for the moment, eh?”

Jack nodded. He decided to suggest something he reckoned was within Ianto’s repertoire. “Jazz? I could kill for some Charlie Parker about now!” Ianto nodded eagerly, clicked through a few iPod playlists until he found the right one – a collection of his live concerts from Harlem’s Savoy Ballroom. “Did I tell you I meant him once? He was doing a one-night show at some club in Toronto, what was the name of that place... .?”

Ianto waved him into the kitchen so he could heat the stew he’d made yesterday. Ianto loved to hear Jack’s stories even if their historical reliability was questionable. It was another thing that attracted Jack to him. Plus, everyone likes to be heard and Ianto was a good listener. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me that one,” Ianto lied. He loosened his tie and got out a canister strangely like the one in Jack’s office.

“You stole my hyper-vodka?”

Ianto chuckled. “No, of course not. Remember that dinner date that got cancelled when those Weevils robbed the First National Bank? I took one of the ones from your usual shipment to pair with this roasted chicken recipe from Jamie Oliver that I’d planned to try on you that night.”

Ianto handed Jack a double shot and Jack took a seat on a stool at the marble kitchen island. “Ah, I see. You were going to use me as your culinary test dummy, eh?”

Ianto took a rather large gulp of the super-charged liquid buzz then said, “No, I was planning on getting you drunk.”

“So, you could have your way with me!”

“That was the plan.”

Jack took the canister away from Ianto before he could pour another shot. “The only one getting drunk around here right now is you if you keep downing that stuff like that.” Jack put his hand on Ianto’s and squeezed it reassuringly. “And frankly, I prefer sex while sober, believe it or not. I don’t want to forget something special.”

Ianto’s blush warmed Jack’s heart and raised his dick’s expectations. _The sensitive types always make the most interesting noises_ , Jack thought to himself. “Go ahead you, feed me! Otherwise, I’ll collapse due to starvation and what fun is that?” 

Ianto heated two small bowls and toasted some sourdough to slop up the juices. He served a sparkling lemonade with it and fresh-baked cookies. “My sister’s actually but they are the best. She always sends me home with a batch when I come for my tea.”

“You two very close?” asked Jack. “How would she feel if she knew I was here?”

Ianto had never thought about it and homosexuality was hardly a topic for Sunday dinner with the family. “I can’t say it has ever come up.” Ianto frowned, “Listen if you are having second thoughts, we don’t have to do this. We finish eating and I’ll call you a taxi.”

“I didn’t say _that_ ,” Jack insisted. He looked at his bowl like he could drown himself in it. “This may be the 21st century and everything may be different but that, that, relationships, . . . change very little. I don’t want you to get entangled if this is just a lark, you know.”

Now Ianto was insulted. He slammed the spoon down, spilling beef, carrots, and onions all over the counter, only increasing his frustration. “Listen Jack! I’m a grown-up, believe it or not. I understand the world is homophobic and that likely includes members of my family, right? Well, are we really there yet? At this point, without a proper shag, I can hardly call what’s been going on between us a ‘relationship’. Like I said if you want to back out now, no harm/no foul.”

“I just want to be sure you’re clear about what you’re getting yourself into. Not just in terms of other people but, well . . . how do I say this? Sex between men requires, well, requires ‘preparation’ otherwise things can get rather ‘messy’.” Jack thought for a minute then added, “Now there are some species who like that sort of thing. The Rhodonite men, for example, each the faeces of a woman to demonstrate his love for her. And the Sulomins, well they use it to cook the most delicate cakes . . ..”

“Alright, TMI, TMI!” They both laughed.

Once that calmed down, Jack continued, “But seriously, I have to ask you something before we get started here. Are you into ‘catching’ or ‘receiving’? I’m what the kids call today ‘versatile’”. 

It took a moment for Ianto to catch on. “I hadn’t thought about it,” he lied again. “I guess I’m not sure.” That was a half-lie. Ianto may not have figured on how to get there but he knew he wanted to hear Jack make that sound. He remembered distinctly and clearly hearing it one morning when he arrived at the office early. He didn’t see Jack around and reckoned Jack had gone to the bakery for some doughnuts.

Ianto had settled into his work when he heard strange noises coming from Jack’s living space. As Ianto got closer to the sound’s source, the more he was drawn to it. By the time he was just outside the bathroom door, Ianto had already identified Jack’s voice and that of a local boy toy Jack diddled with occasionally. It was Jack’s moaning that drew Ianto. Whatever that guy was doing was putting Jack in a right good state of ecstasy. Ianto stood at that door for several minutes before he worked up the courage to peek behind it. It was already ajar so Ianto simply opened it a bit more. And what he saw shocked him and put a rattle in the notion that alpha males were always the ‘pitcher’, never the ‘receiver’.

Jack was held bend over onto the bathroom sink getting the right size sausage moving in and out of his ass and loving it. Jack’s anal orgasm was so intense, he nearly pulled the sink off the wall. Ianto scampered away before the two men noticed or heard him as it is hard to run when your dick has grown a pocket and a piece of white chocolate has melted in it. Ianto ended up running home to change and coming back to act as if nothing had happened. For the rest of that day, all he could think about is look on Jack’s face, his tight ass, and Jack’s big, semi-hard wanker flopping around with each thrust. “Oh my! Ianto said while trying to extract himself from a lovely daydream, “I suppose we should prepare for everything.”

The both sat at the island eating quietly, both lost in thought with Ella Fitzgerald crooning about losing her man. Jack wondered if what he was about to do . . . what he wanted to do was fair to Ianto. But he was so terribly lonely, and he liked how Ianto made him feel. _Maybe, just maybe I can let go a little, let that old self out for air_. All the saving-the-world stuff could be tiresome. And it had been a while since someone had taken care of Jack. 

While Jack was giving himself permission to fall in love, Ianto finished eating then declared, “Are you done? I’m ready now.”

Jack sighed. It was already out of his hands; he could feel it. “Come here.” Ianto rinsed their utensils and bowls then neatly put them in an empty dishwasher. When he did come up to Jack, Ianto stood between the man’s legs. “You know, you’re rather insubordinate for an assistant.”

Ianto shook his head and started unbuttoning Jack’s shirt. “This is my home and there are no aliens or staff who need your masterful direction.” He went to the closet for a hanger.

“Shouldn’t my clothes go in the bedroom closet?”

“How do you know my bedroom has a closet?”

“Why don’t you show me?” Jack replied while started unbuttoning Ianto’s shirt. 

“All in good time. You said something about prep work.”

Jack cupped Ianto’s face and said, “Kiss me first.” It was a gentle, short kiss and more like something to cool rather raise a temperature. When he pulled back a bit, Jack looked into Ianto’s eyes and saw the same determination one would see in on the face of an American high school senior determined to lose their virginity on prom night. Ianto got up abruptly and took Jack’s hand, dragging him toward the bedroom. “Wait a second, I’ve gotta get my kit from my coat pocket,” Jack said. He came back carrying a nondescript mini travel tote. When they reached the bedroom, both men undressed themselves. Jack was done first and stood with his clothes at his feet, removing items from the mystery bag.

“What’s that?”

“What every horny toad should have available at all times. Never know when you’ll stumble upon Mr. or Ms. Right-About-Now!” Jack pointed to the items already on the bed – condoms, a new tube of Astroglide©, a rectal bulb, and a small ribbed object.

Ianto pointed at the strange object. “What’s that?”

Jack picked it up and twisted the wider bottom portion. “It’s got six settings. Great for the newbie in your bed.” Ianto’s eyebrow rose in that you-gotta-be-kidding way. “Okay, how about we start with anal beads?” He looked at Ianto expectantly. “No, eh? Maybe we should discuss positioning further . . . I mean I don’t mind bottoming, but I think you should experience it if you ever wish to repeat this with say that cute next-door neighbour of yours. Yum, yum!”

“How do you know my neighbours.”

“Daily surveillance. I’m sorry but when I found out that an alien spy was operating out of your community, I had to do something. I mean you’re always getting on me about running into danger without the even the slightest of plans.”

“How long have you been watching me?”

Jack swallowed. “Since you told me to leave you alone.”

“Jack!”

“I know. I know!” Jack pleaded. “Listen, I had the best of intentions. At first, I was trying to find the words to make up, but I couldn’t find them. Then I just liked to watch you through the window.”

“Not too stalky!”

“Sometimes I just don’t know what to say to you, how to talk to you,” Jack yelled, surprised by the fierceness of his words. He had spent so many years hiding his true self that when some genuineness came out unexpectedly it was like the voice from another man.

But Ianto grinned at Jack. “We Torchwood types aren’t easy people to love or understand.” Ianto felt he should take a stand when it comes to Jack’s pouting. They stood there in silence again, not sure what to do next, so Ianto took the opportunity to do something uncharacteristic of Ianto Jones. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” said Ianto in a somewhat surprisingly firm tone.

“No, but I could use a cuddle about now.”

They let out nervous laughs confirming they shared the same feeling. “Why don’t we get in the bed. At least then we’ll be warm.” They both got into the King size poster bed. “The sheets are Egyptian thread and my nan made the quilt. Warm, right?”

“Quite cosy actually.” Initially, they sat up looking like lost tourists in Piccadilly Square. Then Ianto made the next move. He sunk down further under the covers, turned to his side and propped his head up with his hand. “You never did tell me about meeting Charlie Parker.”

He came down in the bed at Ianto’s eye level. “Come here,” Jack said as he got on top of Ianto. The music switched playlists and returned to classical albeit it was lighter, softer tunes. Jack’s lips followed the passionate, leisure music of JS Bach’s Suite No. 3 in D. The steadily growing highs and lows of the piece guided Jack’s movements as he anticipated each stanza and the way it would move the man underneath him. It was a perfect intervention as it was slow enough that Jack could control his urge to go hard and fast (not good for a novice!) and gave him time to find Ianto’s external G-spots. When Jack located one, Ianto would press against the hand or lips stimulating the area. Jack found two in the first few minutes – the top of his shoulder near the joint, the centre of his chest just above his heart. He found a third in the lower back of his neck that when Jack’s lips touched it, even lightly, Ianto would start shaking and moaning. Jack kept returning to that spot, nibbling with his teeth against the thin, sensitive skin. Ianto’s mind was reeling so strongly he thought he’d pass out. He wanted to do more, for Jack to do more but Ianto’s mind was flooded with so many sensations that he couldn’t separate one from the other. It was like he was drowning in thick, moist joy. “I don’t know what you’re doing but you can’t stop. Please don’t stop. Not yet . . . not when I’m so . . . so close . . ..” Once his body couldn’t take anymore, the sensations exploded and sent tiny, strong electro-shocks to all his extremities. When Ianto recovered his senses, expecting to be soaked and sticky soon realized that he’d spilt not one drop of jizz even though he felt he’d been cumming for hours. But Ianto couldn’t explain what had just happened. He had no idea what Jack had done – if Jack had even touched him. Yet, when Ianto inhaled, he got a scent heretofore unfamiliar to him. It was his smell with Jack’s phenomes and it was intoxicating.

“Karma Sutra, great stuff!” bragged a self-satisfied Jack Harkness He rolled over onto his back, hands behind his head. “Tell you’re dick not to worry. Its time will come. The night is young.” Jack sat up and started out of bed. Ianto’s eyes couldn’t help but follow. Once Jack was standing at the foot of the bed, Ianto couldn’t believe he’d just been naked with someone who looked like a Hollywood leading man from some 1940s film noir. Noticing the strange look on Ianto’s face, Jack asked, “What?”

“I don’t want it all to go to your head.”

Jack lifted his semi-erect dick and looked at its head. “Yeah, if this thing gets any thicker, I’ll have to register it with MI-5 as a lethal weapon.” He laughed at his joke. “Hey, I am thirsty. Glasses are in the cabinet over the sink, I think?”

Jack had a propensity for breaking things and Ianto’s goblets were special ordered. “I’ll grab it. I’m fine I need something to drink as well.” Ianto got out of bed and started for a fluffy robe that hung on a hook outside the bathroom. 

Jack stopped him with, “Please don’t ruin the view.”

Ianto blushed again and hung up the robe. “I’d better turn up the heat then.” As Ianto passed him, Jack considered the other man’s assets. Ianto’s suits didn’t do his body justice. _Those muscles need something tight to show off their goodness_ , thought Jack. Although Jack had seen a drag king in 1990s New York who showed how to use the suit to extend the tease. 

“Maybe some hot chocolate? I just got something from Belgium from my coffee club. They send me samples to try monthly.” Ianto chatted, frightened that any silence would portend a bad outcome. _What do you say after what just happened_? “This is all quite domestic,” said Ianto stumbling over his words for it’s hard to talk while naked exposed to a sexual g-d is sitting at your kitchen island waiting to be served. But it wasn’t as if Jack’s physique was remarkable but how he carried it. Jack could depend on his immortality to cover him no matter the success or failure of his crazy plans. Many rich men would pay for that type of power. Hell, even dictators-for-life die. At the same time, laying next to him for a few moments in the quiet afterglow Ianto also felt Jack’s loneliness and boundless anxiety. 

Jack was going to avoid all that and instead apply his go-to coping strategy – sexual innuendo. To Frank Sinatra’s melodic voice playing in the background, Jack continued appreciating the younger man’s assets. Jack felt it immature to focus on the size of a man’s dick - ships, and oceans and all that. But he just had to know if what he felt pulsating against his quad muscle when they were in bed belong to Ianto and not Jack’s imagination. _And that’s some damn good tucking_ , Jack thought to himself after finally getting a good look at Ianto’s dick. It was longer but slightly thicker than Jack’s which made Jack’s ass quite happy. Belgium hot chocolate was not interesting him right now, so Jack interrupted with, “Ianto? The only chocolate I want to talk about is the kind I can drizzle over your cock.”

Ianto frowned. “Okay, right. I’ve got a question. How much sex does it take before you’ll let me in, have a grown-up conversation about something more substantial than the size of our dicks and next Weevil hunt?”

“I didn’t say anything about the size of your dick!” Jack said feigning insult. “I’m not that shallow.”

“No, you’re not,” Ianto replied sarcastically. He finished stirring his mug and put the spoon in the sink. Walking back to the bedroom, he added, “Well, now you can analyze my ass and we’ll see whether it meets your standards.”

“Already completed and I must say I approve, ten out of five!”

Then Ianto had an idea. He turned around and struck a pose like a male model reminding those bitches in the wings who owns this stage. “Then you’re going to have to earn a taste of either of these juicy cherries.”

“And how am I supposed to that?” Jack was finding this game cute . . .

. . . until Ianto said, “Tell me a story from your childhood. What was the gorgeous Jack Harkness like in short pants and a dirty face only a mom could love?”

“So, the entry fee back into your bed is a bit of emotional blackmail?”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Ianto conceded. He took a few steps toward Jack. “But I told you before, I don’t need a fuckbuddy, no matter how hot they are. Listen, my sister is married to the biggest idiot who ever walked the planet. And that man loves the shit out of his family. They may not visit the British Museum or take in a concert at the London Symphony but he brings her flowers every Friday, takes the kids to the park every Saturday, and has date night with her EVERY Sunday while my niece and nephew are with me.”

“Sounds like Gwen and Rhys,” Jack mumbled with a ting of acrimony dripping from his lips.

“Sorry, I know . . . well, I did note a connection between you two before you disappeared, but then she got engaged to Rhys.”

“Ah, it’s like they say, ‘you snooze, you lose’”. Jack took a big gulp of his drink, sat down on the bed. “She made the best decision. It was good I wasn’t here to screw things up.”

The last line touched Ianto. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Jack finished his drink and the sound of him placing it in the sink was the beginning of good-bye. He stared it because otherwise, he would cry. “Ianto, I’m not sure I am the one to give you what you want, . . . what you deserve.”

“You don’t like me like that you mean! Spare me the it’s-not-you-it’s-me routine.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Okay, then clarify.”

Jack walked over to Ianto then took Ianto’s hand and held it to his lips, but he still couldn’t look Ianto in the eye. “You don’t understand. I do like you, I really, really like you.” He kissed Ianto’s palm, trying to convince himself to walk away and walk away now.

Ianto was moved by Jack’s admission. “I really like you too.” Ianto kissed Jack’s nose. 

Jack shook his head like it was going to shift things in his brain. “And I’m an asshole, a jerk, and ridiculous.”

 _My, another bit of honesty_ , thought Ianto. This was a fucking record. Yet, each time there was a crack in the steely veneer, Jack became human. Ianto wanted to listen to his stories. He knew Jack had deep regrets and his heart was full of guilt _. If only I could get him to talk about it_ , thought Ianto before he said, “They do say admitting you have a problem is the first step.” That stupid joke said more about his discomfort than Jack’s. Ianto wasn’t used seeing Jack like this. Ianto sighed, “Right, Rome wasn’t built in a day. I don’t need your whole life story tonight. Why don’t we start with something simple like meeting Charlie Parker?”


	4. Faithful Puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes one has to slow down, not jump into things. Sex is so much better when it is with a person and not just a body part.

Chapter Four

_When you were a young boy, did you have a puppy_

_That always followed you around?_

_Well, I'm gonna be as faithful as that puppy;_

_No, I'll never let you down..._

  * River Deep-Mountain High as sung by Ike & Tina Turner, Songwriters: Ellie Greenwich / Jeff Barry / Philip Spector



Ianto refreshed their hot chocolate mugs and added a side shot of hyper-vodka. They sat on the bed like it was a kid’s sleepover. “Well, I was dating this cute philly from... .,” Jack started. Ianto stuck his feet under the covers, leaned against the headboard, and cuddled his cup. Jack telling stories is more like a one-man show on the London stage or a Moth evening in Chicago. It was fabulously always entertaining, full of mystery, romance, celebrity gossip, and hot sex. If you pushed the hyperbola aside and ignored the narcissism, each story was a key to Jack’s real personality, values, and priorities. On the surface, Jack tried to impress a girl he was dating by bringing her to a concert by a jazz legend. “But this was 1955 and he wasn’t doing so well. He got drunk and they had to cancel the show. Instead, I got a call from Baroness Pannonica de Koenigswarter. I was a friend of her uncle, Walter Rothschild, the 2nd Baron Rothschild. She was hysterical as Charlie had collapsed in her bedroom at the Stanhope Hotel. Although it was well-known that she was his patron and friend, because she was a white woman and he was a Black man, there was likely going to be a lot of unwanted media attention. Like it was okay the man was doing ridiculous amounts of heroin, drinking cases of alcohol on the anniversary of his 3-year old daughter’s death and all this hussy cared about was her reputation?”

“You thought she should have taken better care of him?”

“I hate that patron shit. Most of the time it is classist, racist or both – another way to show how ‘down’, ‘culturally sophisticated’, or ‘woke’ someone is.” Jack shook his head in disgust, “That man was only 34. She could have spared a session or two with one of her three psychiatrists. The man needed treatment, not trips to the public looney bin. He wasn’t depressed, didn’t have some chemical imbalance. Charlie Parker was a talented Black man in America and the only way out for them is prison or suicide. He chose the latter, figuring he ride it out slow.” 

Jack was so engaged in his story, so animated that he didn’t notice the look on Ianto’s face. Ianto was spellbound as he watched Jack like a youngster at a 1930s movie palace. You could nearly see the scenes he imagined as they moved across his forehead like a What-the-Butler-Saw machine. Ianto was listening deeply for Jack’s interpretation of what happened and had little regard for the historical facts. And there is nothing sexier than someone sharing of themselves. So, when Jack fell silent, Ianto leaned over and kissed him. It took Ianto a minute – he had to wait until Jack’s startle disappeared – to convince Jack’s lips that the kiss was more than just a bit of gratitude. He did this with his tongue, which slapped against Jack’s like ocean waves during an Atlantic storm. “Ianto!” Jack said, breathless as he trying to pull back far enough to speak. “Hold on a moment. We’ve gotta get something, uh . . . get some things understood before we . . . go all the way, so to speak. I don’t dive nor do I allow any drilling without it.”

Ianto sat back on his butt and crossed his legs as if getting ready for a story by the campfire. “Oh, right. I have condoms in the side table drawer.” Jack nodded and reached over to find a couple with an expiration date within the 21st century. “Not that I generally a problem with them but, you are immortal. Why do you have to worry about STIs?”

Jack scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Remember Freddie Mercury?”

“Sure, lead singer of Queen. He died during the early days of the AIDs pandemic.”

“How do you think he contracted it.”

“You? OMG! You can’t contract but you can transmit.”

“I didn’t know that at the time. Freddie was a beautiful person – so talented. The world lost someone great when he died. Another for my pile of regrets.”

Ianto reached over and took his hand to kiss the palm. “I can’t imagine. You’ve had a long life, plenty of time to screw up. But in the midst of your failures, you more than once save this planet. Thank you for keeping this mortal safe.”

Jack watched Ianto’s lips, red and surprisingly plump, brush his palm a second time. That along with the young man’s genuine sincerity conspired to weaken Jack’s reserve. “Ianto, being with me is always dangerous. You have to know that.”

“It isn’t like Torchwood staff have a history of employment longevity.” Ianto kept Jack’s hand, squeezing it lightly to emphasize his points. “Right. I get it. You can’t offer me much, not as long as either of us is connected with this mad business of ours. Saving the world, no matter if from terrorists or aliens, is prescription for a premature death, for most of us. But let’s say I surprise things, beat the odds and I live until I’m 90, balding, false teeth and slightly demented, do I expect . . .”

 _Oh, Ianto Jones, we are way beyond that_ , Jack thought. “. . . I’d clean your teeth, kiss your bald spot, and remind you that you are loved as long as you breath.” Jack looked at their hands together as he struggled to get the words out. “I’m not nearly as much of a slut as I portend. I’m more of a serial monogamist.” Ianto smiled brightly and Jack was briefly overwhelmed by how good that made him feel. “But I would rather not tell the team.”

Ianto started getting under the covers again, as his feet were getting cold. “Gwen already knows.”

“Which means Tosh knows . . ..”

“. . . which means Owen knows. I get you though. I know how to be discreet.” Ianto smiled at that comment _. Jack’s the one who likes to fondle people as he passes_! Ianto pulled back the covers next to him and patted the bed space. “C’mon now. Show me how to please you.”

Jack’s heart skipped, his body cooed, and his mind went to get coffee. “You know what I really need?” 

“What?”

“To eat and get a decent night’s sleep. You know I go through bouts of insomnia.”

“And you forget to eat,” Ianto got out of bed and put a robe on. Jack got under the was surprised at his immediate acquiesce however he liked taking care of Jack. Jack needed care. It was the weekend and there was plenty of time for snogging. 

“I have some left-over roast beef. I could make sandwiches.”

“That’ll be perfect,” said Jack, slightly distracted. He had a text from Torchwood Jerusalem. Jack had a friend to ran that outfit. “Our folks in Israel have put the word out to keep our eyes out for some rogue Dragunites. They were spotted getting on a flight to Egypt but never got off the plane.”

“They should check their CCTV. When London had that outbreak in ’95, those forces took over the bodies of the people they killed. It got to be we couldn’t tell who was human and who wasn’t. They pulled us from archives to help security screen everyone coming in the building.”

Jack got out of bed and took a seat at the island. “Yeah, I recall reading the final report. Figuring out that they could also take the shapes of inanimate objects was a real breakthrough.” Jack watched Ianto organize a sandwich (with bean sprouts, kale, swiss, and spicy mustard), chips (cooked in a newly introduced appliance called an air fryer), and a strange herbal tea. Ianto’s plating and efficiency led Jack to ask, “Have you worked in service? I mean, you put this together so expertly . . ..”

“Thank you! And watch yourself, the tea is quite hot.”

Ianto placed the plate and cup in front of Jack and replied,“I was a personal assistant to the head librarian at Cardiff University – not much different.”

“How ‘personal’ was that assistance?”

Ianto thought a moment after putting down his own plate, “Not as personal as this is about to be.”


	5. Coming up Close (to a) Split Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes forever means different things.

Chapter Five

_Coming up close_

_Everything sounds like welcome home_

_Come home, and oh, by the way_

_Don't you know that I could make_

_A dream that's barely half-awake come true_

_I wanted to say_

_But anything I could have said_

_I felt somehow that you already knew_

\- Coming Up Close as sung by ‘Til Tuesday, Songwriters: A. Mann

Jack took a bite from his sandwich, noting the subtle tones of pepper, salt, and something spicy he couldn’t quite place. “Wow Ianto Jones, who knew you could do more than call for take out! This is some fabulous meat here.” He didn’t mean to say it that but, _well, . . . there you have it_. Ianto acted as if he hadn’t heard it and both continued to eat in silence. When Jack finished the sandwich, ate the chips, and drank most of the tea, which was surprisingly sweet despite looking like tree branches after a forest fire. He rubbed his belly and let out a resounding belch then said, “You’ll make someone a good house husband one day Ianto Jones.”

Ianto was still lost in thought and responded with a cursory, “Thanks!” He took both their plates, carefully rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher. “More tea?”

“Sure. Any chance of a slice of that cake over there?” Jack pointed at a double layer chocolate bunt cake on the other counter. “I’m a sucker for anything honeyed.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” Ianto replied sarcastically. He got up to cut a slice while he reheated the kettle. With his back to Jack, it was easier to think, to concentrate and form the words he wanted to say from a cacophony of emotions. It felt like the devil and angel on his shoulders were locked in some apocalyptic deathmatch. He should have been used to it by now. This noise occasionally distracted him from his initial goal in joining Torchwood Cardiff – rescuing Lisa from being locked inside a tin can. If he was honest, this crazy attraction started before their formal meeting.

While performing reconnaissance, considering the best initial approach, Ianto picked up an enticing smell. When he helped Jack catch the Weevil, the scent was stronger but Ianto still hadn’t made the connection. All the men in Ianto's life – from his father and uncles to the sex-starved blokes doing fieldwork in London – wore fragrances that hollered ‘I’m here! Pay attention!’ Jack smelled like ‘Yeah, and I’m tasty too!’ But Ianto got his most definitive whiff regaining consciousness in Jack’s arms while Lisa tried to destroy the Hub. “Jack,” Ianto opened with as he put the piece of cake in front of him, “Jack, why did you kiss me, like that, . . . that day . . . the day Lisa died?”

“Ianto Jones, your girlfriend died as soon as the Cybermen took her body,” Jack grumbled. It bothered him that Ianto was ruining a beautiful moment talking about that humanoid monstrosity. Yet, it only took a few more seconds for Jack to realize he was no longer mad at Ianto for what he did as he’d done much worse and for much less noble reasons. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have been so harsh then or now. I get it, I really do. Love has its own kind of hope.”

“It’s okay, in the past.” Ianto refilled Jack’s cup. “Things are different now.”

Jack sighed heavily. “Ianto, listen . . . I, I’m not worth all this . . .” 

To shush him, Ianto put his pointer finger on Jack’s lips. “Stop. Please stop. Aren’t we about to have some fun? Like you said, why ruin it with all that . . ..” Ianto drained the rest of his tea and put the cup in the dishwasher after a quick rinse. He walked around the island and proclaimed, “I’m going to wash up a bit. I’ll meet you in bed.”

“Confident, aren’t we?” Jack smirked.

Ianto turned around and looked Jack up and down like a Dom at a slave auction. “Yep,” Ianto stated.

Jack hopped off the stool and dashed toward him, circling around to block Ianto from entering the bedroom. “You’re awfully cocksure. I’m not familiar with this Ianto Jones.” Jack stretched his arms and legs to form an “X”, the white robe falling open just as he settled in position in moment of drama seldom seen since the silents. Jack’s bell-end swinging back and forth like a pendulum on a grandfather clock caught Ianto’s eye, much to Jack’s amusement.

“Let’s get something straight . . .” Ianto started, now so close to Jack that he could feel the man’s heart beating. 

“Oh, now that’s an odd allusion if I ever heard one!” Jack joked. “

But Ianto was not amused. “I may play the submissive in the Hub, but here . . .. This is my house where I can be myself.”

Jack dropped his arms and cocked his head before he said, “Yeah, I can see that.” Jack recognized that his humour camouflage had run its course. “I do take you seriously even if I don’t apply the same to myself. I’m sorry.”

“Excuse me?” Ianto questioned while moving Jack out of the way and entering the bedroom. “Who are you and what have you done with Jack Harkness?”

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize, at least not sincerely. Thanks.” Ianto winked at him and got back in bed. “Right. Now you promised me a lesson, I believe.”

Jack flashed his best come-hither smile. “A grrl just needs a minute to ... as they say, clean her pipes?” Jack grabbed his tote and went into the bathroom.

Ianto didn’t know what Jack meant. He shrugged and opened a side table to pull out a flask of Glenlivet and two plastic glasses. Many nights, especially when Jack was away with his Doctor, Ianto would suck down scotch and scan porn on his tablet until he couldn’t beat the bishop anymore. This time the incredibly smooth, fruity notes served as liquid courage. For all his boasting and the earlier sex play, Ianto felt this time was different. This time would be slower, maybe more intense now that the initial excitement was out of the way. Was it going to be different than it was with Lisa? Naturally it was! Jack Harkness was about to warm his bed after all. 

As Ianto started searching for something on his iPod, Jack abruptly came out of the bathroom and grabbed his clothes. “Tosh just texted. Something is happening on the north end of St. Mary’s Street. Likely there are already some casualties.” 

Ianto didn’t reckon he had time for disappointment – _This was the life as a Torchwood operative now wasn’t it_? he thought as he rushed to put on his clothes as well. After all, it was the 2nd week of the month which meant it was Jack and Ianto’s turn to do after hours emergency runs – Ianto had forgotten. “Any idea of what we’re in for?”

“Lechens, Tosh picked up three but there could be more.”

“Yuck, nasty creatures. They smell like rotten fish. I think I’ll bring my raincoat.” He took two out of the closet and tossed one to Jack. After finishing his clothes, Ianto assisted Jack with his coat. The smell of Jack which lingered like fresh-cut flowers in a nearby arrangement distracted Ianto. “We wouldn’t want to get that coat of yours caught in the fumes, now would we?” They both grinned. “If we get done before dawn, maybe we can pick up where we left off?” That last bit was wishful thinking.

Jack gave Ianto a sidelong look. _What a funny combination of dedication and determination was this Ianto Jones fellow_! he thought before he cupped Ianto’s face then kissed him - lips, tongue, and heart all-in this time. It was that kiss your partner gives you before sending you off to the front. “What makes you think there will be later? We could become fish food.” Ianto opened his eyes, all doughy eyed. “I bet you got all the candy you wanted with that face,” waxed Jack.

“Is it working now?”

Jack shook his head, amused and pleased to find someone who could match him in wit. “What do you think?” Jack said taking Ianto’s hand and guiding it to his semi-erect cock.

Poor aliens! The two randy intergalactic enforcers gave them a right routing, dispensing them back through the rift, which saved the time of having to haul them to the Hub and doing eight separate reports – now they just did one. They were back at Ianto’s flat within two-hours. All the shooting, kicking, and punching created volcanic serge. They barely made it to the bedroom. Between tearing at each other clothes and kisses only the French could claim, Jack asked, “Did you mean it? What you told me in the SUV? You saw me getting fucked and you . . .”

Ianto stopped immediately and looked at Jack directly. “How do I get you to make that sound?”

Jack nearly tripped over his pants leg. He knew exactly for which Ianto spoke. _And he asked for it like doing it would meet some challenge. How dark and dirty!_ “Get in the bed. I’ll be right there.” 

Ianto had asked about the cleaning routines of bottoms while they drove 2x the speed limit to get to the creatures, so he knew he had a few moments. Using the tablet from his side drawer he chose a 90s American rock playlist and adjusted the volume as well as the room temperature. He also had enough time to rinse his mouth and tidy a few things in the bedroom. He finally got under the covers and tried to find a position to take that didn’t leave him looking stupid when Jack came out of the bathroom. 

Then Jack came out of the bathroom. “Where . . .did . . .you . . . get . . . that toilet paper! My ass feels like it’s been bathed in silk!”

“Amazon,” Ianto answered, finally distracted from his previous frivolity. “Expensive otherwise I’d get some for the Hub.”

Jack crawled under the covers. He tugged Ianto to lay on his side. “I am in good with Purchasing.”

“And have they been in good with you?” Ianto said raising his right eyebrow.

“Yes, would you like to learn how they did it?” Jack slyly replied as he put the condom on Ianto’s dick. “Like I told you, male on male productions require some preparation. But done right, all that prep work can be part of the play.” Jack squeezed a glob of lube in his left hand then grabbed Ianto’s cock, which made him gasp between panting. “And what do you sound like Ianto Jones, hmm? What comes out of you when ecstasy has you in her grip?” Ianto gasped again and Jack strokes lightened. He didn’t want him too cum too soon, not before he had his thrill as well. “Here take some,” Jack said as he dumped lube on Ianto’s right hand. Jack rolled on his back. “Come here,” he said pointing between his legs, “and put the lube all around here . . . and move a finger inside, slow, keep things slow for now – plenty of time for fast.” Jack’s voice drifted and he lifted his legs then hips as Ianto experimented . . . one finger, then two, then three . . . until Jack’s small groans reminded Ianto of that sound.

Ianto noted that Jacks hips and thighs were very relax. “Now Jack? Do I do it now?”

Jack grabbed a pillow and put it under his ass. “Yes, still slow though. Are you going to last?” Jack smiled to convey his sympathy.

“I will try.” 

Jack reached up and pulled Ianto into a kiss. “If you focus on that sound, look for it, then we may come together. No guarantees though.”

“Always good to have a goal,” Ianto stuttered as he put a bit more lube on his dick. Jack held his legs back to make it easy for Ianto to enter him. Ianto guided himself into Jack asshole with his fingers. When Jack winced, Ianto remembered what Jack told him and pulled back for 10 seconds then firmly move forward. Ianto did this then rested inside him, shudders from Jack’s ass were unbelievable.

After a moment, Jack bumped up his hips to get Ianto’s attention. “How does that feel?”

“Incredible.”

“It could be even better if you move your hips.”

“Yeah, that sounds like an idea.” Ianto leaned down and kissed Jack while he moved his dick at a steady 4x4 rhythm. 

It took a few minutes – they had to catch the right timing – but all Ianto would remember was Jack’s orgasm. Jack’s body shook like San Francisco in 1906 – fire, aftershocks, periodic explosions and all. As for Ianto it wasn’t simultaneous but sequential. He lasted long enough to hear Jack’s sound. Ianto didn’t know what he did but he reached his goal and that was good enough for now. Thus he eventually rolled off Jack with a condom so full semen seep down through his pubic hair and down his balls like a waterfall. Ianto closed his eyes and smiled like a successful thief.

Jack looked over at him and shook his head. “Didn’t you mother teach you anything? It is impolite to gloat after sex.”

“Does that mean we won’t do that again?” Ianto asked.

“Not if you keep making fun of me! I’ll have you know, I’m quite sensitive.” Jack gave him a I-was-just-kidding grin. Ianto smiled back. This couldn’t have been a better night – even with the alien call. Ianto wanted to do it again – maybe some other things too like eat – and soon without interruption until Monday morning. _Stupid aliens! That was a one off – this is the rifts quiet time of year_.

Jack’s afterglow was more about fretting away his happiness. “Ianto, I think . . .”

Ianto Jones wasn’t having it. “I’m sorry sir but I’m going to have to cut you off right there.” He sat up to gather more courage. “I’m afraid I’m already in love and I believe you are as well. And I also know it can only end badly for me, either in a week by some alien madness or at 97 like my nana. Either way, between now and then I want to spend what time I have listening to all your stories even though I know you won’t tell me them all and I am uncertain if all of what you tell me is true. I know you worry about losing me. Well, how do you think I feel about watching you from my wheelchair as you fawn over some 20-year-old?”

“Like I said, I don’t cheat. For example, I still keep the yahrzeits of my Jewish partners.”

“The mantle with the Hebrew next to the lights? I wondered what that was.”

Jack straightened his back pridefully. “It’s to help remember them. You turn on the light on the anniversary of their death. I remember them all.” Jack glanced off as their names ran across his mind with a tickertape of life snippets – weddings, new homes, birth of babies and the loss of others, first cars, graduations, and funerals. Being married so many times taught Jack that love has many forms, corners, and projections but partnerships have a life of their own that need tending from gifted gardeners. _Most folks weren’t good to themselves, let alone good for anyone else_ , he reflected. Jack also knew sometimes he was a good husband and sometimes he was dismissive and neglectful – this is what happened in his last marriage. _Well, it was me and Torchwood_.

Ianto laid back down hands behind his head. “That’s good to know.” 

“What?” Jack snapped back to the present more conflicted about the whole thing than he was before and that was irritating him. “Listen Ianto, . . .”

Ianto stared at the ceiling for a moment, slowly easing his breathing then carefully crafting his words. He interrupted, “Jack, let’s just be together and leave it there for now.” 

Jack was touched. He knew Ianto was lying, _but I’ll figure that out later. The pouting bottom lip is working me_. “I can do that,” Jack replied, tired of controversy.

Satisfied that things were settled, Ianto lay his head on Jack’s chest. Jack wrapped his arm around him and kissed the top of his head. Ianto smiled and nuzzled close. They both sighed and thought of all the fun they would have in and out of bed until it was all over. And yes, both men were content but for different reasons – Jack because he finally had someone who really wanted to listen and Ianto had someone with something fascinating to say.

_Sometimes I think he knows too much_

_His confidence never needs a crutch_

_One man is a real one, the other wants to hide_

_One man has his mind made up, the other can't decide_

_By the time there's nothing left to choose_

_One man puts the fire out, the other lights the fuse_

_Sometimes I think I know too much_

_'Bout what goes on in the real world and such_

_Half of me is certain, the other isn't sure_

_One half has the symptom, the other knows the cure_

_By the time there's nothing left to choose_

_One half has the answer, the other looks for clues_

_It's a fine line, a very fine line_

_Split decision_

  * Split Decision – as sung by Steve Winwood; Songwriters: Steve Winwood / Joe Walsh




End file.
